Quit for the Team
by zombisanscafe
Summary: Craig always quits everything, and he has a unique way to vent his bottled up feelings. Rated T for language, short story.


"Do you want to quit baseball, Craig." His father's stern stare irritated him, so he looked out the window.

"Yeah."

"That's something else you quit. Karate, boy scouts, basketball, football..what else are you going to quit? You're a quitter."

Craig didn't respond. He stared out the window the rest of the way home.

Every time he did something, he usually quit. It really didn't bother him, but his family mentioned it every time he did it. Half-assed washing the dishes, never put away his clean clothes, never did all of his homework. Everything he did he quit halfway through. He didn't know why he did it, but it always made him feel more alone.

So he'd go home, walk inside, then go to his room. Inside, he walked over to Stripe's cage, and he opened it up and held out his hand. After sniffing his fingers and tickling the tips with his whiskers, Stripe obediently crawled up Craig's arm so he could lift him out. Then he'd turn on his playstation and sat down with Stripe in his lap for hours, only putting him back to let him relieve himself and then he'd take him out again.

Over the years, little changed about this ritual. First time he failed a class in high school and had to take summer school - he went in his room, took Stripe out, sat down. The game systems eventually changed with the games, his outfits got rattier, he got his peach fuzz in and then had to start shaving. Even with his world changing, he always had his guinea pig to go home to. Stripe would crawl up his arm after tickling his fingers with his nose, snuggle up in his lap and hunker down for hours on end. Sometimes Craig even fell asleep on the floor, Stripe nestled safely under his arm and against his chest.

Craig didn't even notice Stripe was aging.

One night his father greeted him at the door angrily, and said "That pig of yours must've pissed on the couch because it smells like urine. Clean it." He flipped him off, and his father said loudly, "Do it now, Craig." He reluctantly got out the fabric cleaner and scrubbed up the seat, leaving it wet as he went upstairs. He heard almost out of earshot, "I don't know why he carries that goddamn thing around everywhere, the hair gets in everything and it eats its own shit. Disgusting."

He bit his lower lip when he entered his room, tears threatening to fall as he slammed the door shut and went over to Stripe's cage, beginning their routine. Stripe climbed out and soon they were sitting in front of the tv, but he didn't feel like playing video games, so he laid on his side with Stripe to his chest, nested between the carpet and his arm. His eyes shut and he felt Stripe's soft cheek nuzzling him as he drifted off.

Waking up, he looked under his arm and found nothing was there. Something wasn't right- Stripe never ran off from him, at least he didn't think he did. With a frantic push, he moved off the floor and started throwing things around. "Stripe!? Fuck, Stripe, where the fuck did you go!?" He overturned his clothes hamper and spilled his clothes on the floor, looking underneath his desk and then his bed. That was when he heard, "Hey Craig."

A short boy with wild black hair not very much younger than him was standing across the room, smiling.

"Where's Stripe?" Craig asked dumbly, not knowing what else to say. The stranger didn't feel like a stranger, but...

"I'm Stripe." He said, walking over and sitting on Craig's bed. Craig stared at him for a moment, the unnatural realization sinking in - his guinea pig was humanoid. And it was fucking awesome. He numbly sat next to Stripe on the bed, his eyes fixed on the other. Stripe scooted over so he was almost sitting on top of Craig, they were so close that he barely knew where his hand was when Stripe reached over to hold it.

"I..."

"You don't have to say anything, Craig. I want to do one thing though." Stripe leaned in close, staring at Craig.

"...what." Craig said as his eyes widened at the distance closing between them.

Stripe slowly lifted up his hand, flipping off Craig.

"You have no idea how long I wanted to do that." Stripe said with a relieved sigh, stretching and then throwing his arms around Craig in a tight hug. "I love you, bro."

"Uh...thanks Stripe," Craig replied awkwardly, his arms reaching up to embrace the other as he clung to him. "But...but why are you..."

"Human? Because I felt like it, dumbass." Stripe smiled wide, his buck teeth showing as he laughed. "Because you put up with a lot of shit and I want to be here for you."

"Oh." Craig said, looking at the floor. They sat in silence for awhile, Stripe rubbing Craig's back as he leaned on him, the familiar closeness calming Craig's nerves. "I just...I really fucking hate when he yells like that. He does it because he thinks I'm a failure."

"You're not," Stripe chirped as he continued to rub circles mesmerizingly into the other's back.

"I'm a quitter, Stripe," Craig mumbled, sighing.

"No you're not," Stripe said, grabbing Craig's chin with his hand gently to turn him towards him. "Look at me, Craig."

Craig looked towards him, his eyes locking with Stripe's brown ones.

"You're not a quitter because you never quit loving me. Even when I piss on the couch because I can't hold it in anymore. You never quit me, that's why you're not a quitter."

Snapping out of his sleep, Craig's eyes opened for a second time, his body heavy. His eyes narrowed as he realized the door slamming downstairs woke him up. "Fuckers." He muttered as he looked down at Stripe, relieved to see him there. But something wasn't right.

"Stripe?" Craig said as he reached down to pet Stripe's back, and he realized the tiny creature was stiff.

His heart sank as he realized Stripe passed in his sleep.


End file.
